The Ice Is Getting Thinner
by a-ufo-party
Summary: This is just a compilation of all the Sifki one shots I post on my tumblr! Ratings will range from K-T Enjoy...
1. When The Witnesses Are Gone

**A/N:** This one shot was written a little while ago for Sifki Week 2017 Day 1 Prompt: Secrets

 _ **Summary:**_ _The night before her intended wedding to his brother, Loki finds Sif alone in the ballroom..._

* * *

"Dancing alone this evening, are we milady?" The young prince asked wryly as he approached Sif.

Upon hearing his voice, she turned and smiled slightly, despite the line of tears on her cheeks. "Loki."

"How fare the wedding preparations?"

Her smile faltered. "Tedious."

"Mm. Have you been practicing dancing?"

"Indeed. The queen is concerned that, as she put it, the guest will mistake my dancing for a battle between my legs and the fabric of my skirt."

Loki smirked, folding his hands behind his back. "It is not you, milady, that she should worry about. I've had the pleasure of dancing with you. It was far from unpleasant. If anyone should be practicing, it is my oaf of a brother."

"Well, we were actually...practicing together."

"Ah."

A moment passed.

Then, Sif started, "Loki, I believe if we told the queen about us she would be understanding-"

"No. Not until I've spoken to my father. He was the damned fool that insisted on you marrying Thor in the first place."

"Then let me speak to him!"

"I told you I would speak to him myself. It's best his wrath only fall upon his son, rather than-"

"And? Have you yet spoken to your father?"

"I...no."

Squeezing her eyes shut, she sucked in a shaky breath and turned away from him. "The wedding is to be tomorrow, Loki."

Unable to find a comforting word, he simply stood on the steps and looked at her.

She was breathtaking.

Standing in the middle of an empty ballroom, surrounded by flickering, golden candles and painted ceilings, she was the most beautiful sight. The embroidered, white wedding gown which wrapped her muscular body cascaded to the floor in flowing ripples. And her dark hair was twisted up, dressed with red flowers.

Shaking his head, Loki moved his hand slightly and gentle music began to play.

"What are you doing?" Sif sighed.

With intense determination, he walked down the stairs until he stood directly behind her. Then, he placed one arm securely around her waist and took her hand. "Helping you practice."

Head leaning back to rest against his chest, Sif allowed him to lead her in a waltz.

Loki had always been a talented dancer, graceful, confident, and smooth, but he found little pleasure in it until he had first danced with Sif. With any other partner it was simply mechanical motions done in unison. But with Sif, the dance was a conversation. An intimate message communicated without words. A silent expression of trust and affection. A flirtatious competition in which the pair tried to outdo one another subjectively in leading and being led.

With a swooping step, Loki spun Sif away from him, only to pull her back so that they were facing each other.

They paused as the magicked music slowed to a stop and a new piece began.

Sif stared up at Loki with regretful longing in her eyes.

And, unable to resist, he leaned down and kissed her.

She responded almost at once, giving up on the next dance and wrapping her arms around his neck.

They allowed themselves this moment of bliss, before the gravity of their actions dawned on the duo.

Once they had separated slightly, Sif breathed, "Damn it."

Loki chuckled ruefully in response, brushing her cheek with his thumb.

"You laugh, and yet I remain engaged to your brother." Stepping out of his embrace, Sif shook her head.

"He does not love you," stated Loki plainly.

"He does."

"Oh?"

"Indeed." She began to walk up the steps, but he caught her arm and pulled her back to face him.

Jealousy flickered through his vividly green eyes. "Really? Tell me more of your grandiose affair."

"He has treated me with nothing but cordiality and respect since-"

"Cordiality and respect! Well, I stand corrected. It sounds as though you two are quite the passionate couple."

"If you would let me finish-"

"Oh no, I think I have heard quite enough, milady." With a mock bow, he took her hand and kissed it briefly. "I wish you and your man well."

"No, you have not heard enough, because I have not said enough!" Now the young woman's face was alight with frustration to match that of the prince. Gripping his wrist, she spoke, "Now you listen to me. Perhaps Thor does not love me in the same manner as you, but he and I are bound together now. And he has told me that he will honor our arrangement with pride. So I intend to do the same."

Loki opened his mouth to speak but seemed unable to find the words. A broken mix of anger and heartache etched across his face.

Sif swallowed roughly, "I do not think it is a wise idea for us to see each other anymore."

Loki scoffed, "Well, as you are to wed my brother that may be challenging."

With a defeated sigh, Sif turned and gazed out of the massive pillared windows, watching the moonlit curtains float in the draft. "What do you want me to say?"

They both remained silent for a moment, letting the weight of their topic dissolve in the sound of their mingled breathing.

Then, Loki sighed. "Run away with me."

Sif started. "What did you-"

"You heard me correctly. Run away with me." Marching to face her, he grabbed her hands. "Sif, what's stopping us?"

"First of all my engagement-"

"Damn that, we both know Thor may have his choice of many other eligible women. He will not long be without a bride"

"And then there's the matter of planning a whole elopement in an evening, and escaping without Heimdall's knowledge-"

"Leave that to me. I know of passages off of this realm which even the gatekeeper cannot see."

"And what of your future?" Bridging the gap between them, Sif took Loki's face in her hands, eyebrows creased. "Loki, if we do this you abandon all chances of ever having the throne…"

He paused and stared at her, gaze softly determined. Then, he took her hand from his cheek, kissed it, and breathed, "What care I for the throne if you are not there to share it with me?"

"Loki…" She gave a tearful, disbelieving laugh. "I know you say that this day, but what about a hundred years from now? What about a thousand?"

"If you remain by my side a thousand years from now then my answer will not change. You know me better than anyone, Sif. You know the strength of my resolve. I rarely regret that which has passed. I have only ever regretted one thing," he placed a hand on her waist, "and that was failing to ask for your hand decades ago."

She beamed at him sorrowfully. "And...you are sure that Thor will not be hurt by my abandonment?"

"I believe you will find that my brother will be relieved, rather than wounded. As much as he respects your friendship, I know he desires no more than that. And if I may say, his lack of that desire makes him all the more a fool."

"Then we would leave tonight?"

"This moment."

"And flee Asgard's soil?"

"-to Nornheim. Or Midgard."

"I cannot imagine the king would take kindly to the news…"

"And that only makes this plot more appealing."

"You are serious about this, aren't you?"

"With all my heart."

The warm glow of the candles illuminated Sif's eyes as her smile grew. As a warrior, she had never been one to shy away from adventure or risks when the gain was worthwhile. And this was both, with more to gain than any battle she had ever fought. So, with a disbelieving yet self assured grin, she nodded. "My prince, I accept your proposition."

The words had barely left her mouth before Loki's lips were on her's. And as her feet left the floor and he spinned her, smiling into the kiss, she knew this was a decision she would not soon regret.


	2. None But You

**A/N:** This was also written for Sifki Week 2017! Day 4 prompt: AU

 _ **Summary:** Sifki Regency era AU, loosely inspired by Persuasion by Jane Austen._

* * *

 _In her youth, Lady Sif had once been engaged._

 _Despite her lively attitude and general good spirits, it had been a shy, severe scholar that captured her affections. Their understanding had been so passionate, so closely beheld by both parties, that the young man had begged for her hand not a month after it began. And Sif had been weak to do anything but grant it._

 _However, the boy's guardian was a proud, wealthy, cruel gentleman, who instantly voiced his intense disapproval of the match and demanded it be dissolved. After all, Sif was the daughter of a widowed seamstress, with hardly any money to her name. A most undeserving match for his youngest ward who was to inherit, not so much as his biological son, but still a considerable sum._

 _And so it was that on the day of their intended elopement Sif received a letter in her beloved's hand, calling off the engagement and apologizing for troubling her. Though she sent him several notes in reply to this, she never received any other correspondence._

 _That was the last she had heard from Loki Laufyson…_

* * *

 _5 years later..._

"You're sure you don't want to join us, Sif?" Mr. Volstagg asked kindly, "The Foster's invitation did extend to all members of our party, not just me and my wife."

She smiled at her friend, but shook her head decidedly. She had been staying with them for about two weeks at the invitation of Mrs. Volstagg. It had been the hope of her mother that this trip would result in a husband for her daughter, but Sif had decided long before she left home that that would not be the case. The note from Loki still hung like chain in her pocket, a grimm reminder of precisely why she was determined to be an old maid. "No indeed, thank you. I must decline. I'm feeling poorly."

"Very well. But should you improve, have a servant fetch the carriage for you. For though the Foster's estate is but a mile, it looks like rain."

"I will bare that in mind. Have a pleasant evening." She waved to her friends as they descended the steps of their cottage and made off for the manor.

In truth, she was not ill. Not in the least. But she was not without reason for staying behind. Lady Jane Foster had recently become engaged to a wealthy gentleman by the name of Thor Odinson, with whom Sif had formerly been acquainted. The nature of their acquaintance was this: Thor was the son of Loki's guardian, and the two had been raised as brothers. Although it was not said whether the two young men would be among the party that evening, Sif had decided it wasn't worth the risk.

For she knew that, should she see Loki again, the wound would open afresh and she would be done for.

So, she resigned to spend the evening reading in the Volstagg's parlor.

* * *

 _Later that evening..._

She was not halfway through her novel when a sudden knock at the door startled Sif.

Placing her book on the bench beside her, she listened for a moment. As it was raining angrily outside it was hard for her to believe any sane person would come calling.

But surely enough, another knock sounded. This time louder.

Pulling her shawl around her shoulders, she stood up and hurried to the foyer. Once there, she opened the door and peered out into the dark curtain of rain. And a surge of surprise pierced her chest.

Loki stood, soaked shirtsleeve clinging to his thin frame, black hair matted at the nape of his neck, looking equally shocked.

"Mr. Laufyson-" started Sif.

"You did not come to dinner." He interrupted, voice strained.

"I…" Stepping back, she gestured inside. "Forgive me, would you care to come in?"

Nodding, he strode past her into the sitting room.

"You look well." He said after a moment.

"Thank you, sir. I-"

"Your mother, is she in good health?" The words poured from his lips automatically, as though they needed to be said before he could speak his mind.

"Yes, excellent."

"Glad to hear it."

They stood in silence for a long moment, Loki's eyes fixed on Sif's face with a look of struggle.

Then, they both spoke at the same time.

"Miss...Sif-"

"Your brother has announced his engagement-"

"Forgive me, you may speak first." Loki bowed his head.

"I...I simply wished to offer my congratulations."

"Thank you, madam."

"Lady Foster is from a very amiable family. I'm sure your father must be pleased." Instantly, Sif cringed at herself. The words had come out far more bitter than she had intended.

Loki, however, took the sting better than expected. Breathing a rueful laugh through his nose, he nodded. "You know better than anyone that my guardian is incapable of being pleased."

"And yet you strive to do so anyway."

Face turning severe, his eyebrows knotted. "And you fault me for this?"

Sf sighed heavily, touching the letter in her pocket. It wasn't worth it. "Forgive me-"

"No, I would like to hear more of this. You believe I should not try to honor the man who took me in when my own father passed on, the man who provided me with an inheritance, a family-"

"That is not what I meant."

"Well then what did you mean?" His eyes narrowed.

"I only wanted to…" She trailed off, blood throbbing to her head. "I only think that perhaps one ought to consider their own happiness on occasion, rather than striving towards a goal they know will never be reached."

Loki pondered this for a moment before turning to look out of the window, hands behind his back. "Thank you for your concern, but Thor is very taken with Lady Foster, so his happiness has not been sacrificed."

With a moment of hesitation, Sif replied. "You know that is not what I speak of."

Instantly, the muscles of his back tensed. Then, he looked back at her, eyes pained. "Yes, I know."

The urge to hold him in her arms overtook the young woman with such intensity that she almost gave in to it. But the weight of the letter in her pocket reminded her of what that risked.

"Sif…" He breathed, taking a step closer.

"Yes?"

"I need to tell you...although you must already assume. My reason for coming here despite the rain and-"

"No, you...you need not continue."

"Please, let me speak." Reaching out, he gripped her hand. "I have had no peace since I ended our understanding-"

"Understanding? So that's what it was! Not an engagement, simply a childish affair." Angry sarcasm bled from her words as she pulled back her hand. "Thank you for clarifying."

"You know full well that is not what I meant."

"Do I? Perhaps I do not know you so well as you think."

"I know that I deserve this ridicule after what I did, but will you please hear my piece?'

"Have you not said enough already? You have come to gain closure, to receive my forgiveness so that you will once again have peace. But I will not grant it to you-"

"Sif, I love you!" He shouted suddenly, interrupting her. "Still!"

A strained silence settled over the room.

Then, Loki drew a bundle of letters from his pocket.

The letters Sif had sent him following their separation.

Her heart leapt.

Through a clenched jaw, Loki hissed. "You think that you alone were wounded in the breaking off of our engagement? I have read your letters every day, carrying them with me wherever I go, knowing that I have ruined my chance of matrimonial happiness. And for what? To appease a man who took me in simply to improve his local image." Nervously, he reached out and touched her cheek. "But my own happiness is not the sacrifice that I regret most. No indeed, beautiful...strong...faithful Sif. I would suffer a thousand lifetimes if I could but undo causing you pain."

"Loki…" She started, voice thick with tears. Placing her hand over his, she stared back. She had memorized his face long ago, each scar, line, and sharp feature. But time had changed him slightly. The innocent, amused, smooth face of the boy she had fallen in love with now gave way to that of a wounded man.

After a long moment of silently gazing at one another, Loki breathed, "I cannot do this."

Lunging forward, his other hand was suddenly on her waist and his lips were against hers.

The surprising nature of the action caused Sif to stumble backwards until her body pressed against the wall. And although she knew this was not proper, she could find no reason to stop herself from running her fingers through his rain soaked hair.

She had not felt this sensation, an electric, urgent need to be close to someone, since before they had ended their engagement five years ago. And Sif feared implications of that. She knew not whether she would be able to go through the pain of parting with him again.

So, the minute he pulled away a bit, she spoke hoarsely, "Loki, this is not the way of a gentleman-"

"Damn the ways of gentlemen." He breathed, leaning down to kiss her again.

"Loki, please." Eyebrows creasing, she placed her hands on his chest and pushed him back slightly. She could feel his rapid heartbeat beneath her fingers. "We are no longer engaged."

After staring at her for a moment with disappointment in his eyes, he released a sigh. "You are right. This is not proper."

She shook her head, silently hoping he would not move away from her despite this.

He did, however, just enough to reach into his pocket. "I meant to give you this years ago. I purchased it before I allowed the man whom I call father to manipulate our relationship. And...I have not brought myself to get rid of it."

Sif let out a shaky breath when she saw the item between his fingers. A ring. A gorgeous, sparkling ring. "Loki, what are you doing?"

"I am considering my own happiness." He smiled, a nervous, tearful, smile.

"Your father-"

"-no longer has the same sway over me he did five years ago." Taking her hand, he slid the ring onto her finger. Then, he added, "Besides, now that Thor is married well I dare say he will be less invested in my own affairs."

For a long moment Sif stared at him, unsure of what to say.

Then, she suddenly became very aware of the weight of the letter in her pocket. The letter that she had claimed was a reminder of past mistakes; a warning. Only then did she realize how much she had deceived herself. The brittle, wrinkled pages were a beacon of hope. A final tether to the happy days of past.

And now, perhaps, the happy days of future.

Reaching into her pocket, she ran her fingers along the rough paper.

"Loki, despite the turmoil and heartache I have experienced these past years, I have never once stopped yearning for the mere fantasy of this day," beamed the young woman. "And though I will admit there were times I believed I was a fool to hope...I have loved none but you."

Loki's face brightened to a boyish grin, renewing some of the youthful glow Sif remembered.

"I believe it is proper for you to kiss me now." She blushed at her own boldness.

But Loki was more than happy to oblige.


	3. First kiss

**Prompt:** _Sifki + first kiss_

* * *

Loki concentrated on the dull task of bandaging his hand in order to ignore the sounds of the feast in the grand hall.

Celebrating another one of Thor's victories.

How utterly predictable.

After smuggling a jug of wine beneath his tunic, the youngest son of Odin had bowed out of the dining hall. Not that anyone would've noticed had he been there or no.

Now he sat alone in the empty library attempting to wrap his wounded hand. After being sliced rather severely in the heat of battle, Loki had temporarily put a healing charm on it. But his magic was still unpolished and sloppy. Upon their arrival home the damn thing had begun bleeding like a newly slaughtered swine once more and hadn't stopped. Perhaps it was making up for the lost time the spell had taken; he didn't know. All he knew was that it had already soaked through two cloths and was halfway through another.

"Damn it." He whispered as the deep red liquid began to seep into the bandage.

"I thought you would be here." A voice suddenly rang out in the deserted room.

Glancing up, he saw Lady Sif in the doorway.

Despite his better judgement, he felt his heart leap in his chest. Maybe it was the wine, maybe it was the late hour, but he didn't have the strength to talk himself out of his feelings. The moonlight beaming through the massive windows shone on her raven hair and a friendly smirk danced in her eyes.

"What do you want?" He asked after a moment, the words coming out far blunter than he'd intended.

"Well, I wanted to ask why you had left the feast, but I see now that you are injured-"

"It's but a scratch, I assure you."

"-If that is so, what is the pile of soiled bandages doing beside you?" Her eyebrows arched as she approached him. "You have a silver tongue, Loki, but there is no use lying on this subject."

Nodding to her, he turned his attention back to his cut. However, it was proving difficult to unroll the fabric with only one hand.

After a moment, he felt her hand on his.

"Here," she spoke, taking the bandages from him, "let me."

"Much obliged." Heart beat quickening at her gentle touch, he avoided eye contact.

Time passed in an awkward silence until Loki finally convinced himself to say something. "Why did you leave your celebration?"

"Hm?" She asked as she wound the cloth about his wound.

"The feast. It was to celebrate your victory, after all."

"I could ask you the same-"

"I was sick of my brother's gloating. Now you answer."

Sif snorted and accidentally pulled the bandage too tight.

Loki sucked in a sharp breath.

"Sorry! I'll start afresh." Peeling back the cloth, she began to wrap his hand once more and they settled into another silence.

Then, a moment later, she spoke. "I wanted to thank you."

"Pardon?"

"You asked my reason for leaving the feast. You have it. I desired to express my gratitude, but could not find you amongst the guests. So, I came in search of you."

"Ah." He nodded, suppressing a surprised smile. "Gratitude for what?"

"Were it not for the veil of smoke you created when I was surrounded I surely would've perished this day."

"Oh. You…you do not have to thank me for that."

Eyebrows furrowing, she sewed up the bandage and bit the thread. "Why not?"

"It was merely a trick. Unlike the hard earned battle skills of yourself and my brother."

"I do not understand you, Loki."

"Few do."

"Are you truly blind to your value?"

"No indeed. I am well aware that I am gifted in childish mischief."

"Loki, if it were only mischief then the band of thieves would not be roasting in the fires of Hel."

"Anyone can make a smokey fire."

"But it takes a gifted sorcerer to create it out of thin air in the heat of battle."

He pondered this for a moment, feeling his determination to loathe himself decrease.

"You know I am right." She smiled wryly, picking up his wounded hand. "So thank you."

Then, without a moment of apprehension, she kissed his palm.

Eyes wide, Loki stared back at her.

"Can…did you…" He started, words faltering as he blushed.

"Yes?" She asked sweetly, a glint in her eyes.

Her lips twisted into a small smirk, daring him to give in to his impulsive desire.

A desire that had been building since the day they had met.

So, not thinking twice, Loki leaned forward and kissed her decisively, his hands nervously cupping her face.

And it only took Sif a second to respond, kissing him back with equal passion.

Loki felt he ought to have been more nervous than he was, but he couldn't help it. Kissing Sif was like dancing with Sif or dueling with Sif: effortless. They complimented each other as only two equal opposites could. So, despite being…unpracticed in such activities, any self consciousness he had expected dissolved the moments their lips met.

Eventually he allowed himself to rest his hands on the small of her back as she ran her fingers through his hair, smiling with triumphant delight. He had no notion of how much time had passed, but Sif did not seem in a hurry to stop.

However, at the sound of the library door creaking open, they jumped away from each other.

"Brother? Sif? You are wanted at the feast! The toasts are commencing!" Thor's jovial voice boomed throughout the resonant room.

Loki cleared his throat. "It will be but a moment! We were just-"

"I am helping Loki bandage his hand. Begin the toasts at your convenience!" Sif interrupted with a stifling look.

A moment later, the door creaked closed and a thin silence settled throughout the dusty room.

"So…shall we-" Loki started, turning with the beginning of a smirk.

Lifting an eyebrow, Sif leaned in to him.

"That didn't happen." She whispered, lips barely brushing his ear.

"But that's not to say it will not happen again…" He grinned deviously.

And the glint in her eyes seemed to confirm his suggestion.


	4. Riddle With No Answer

**Prompt:** _Sifki - stuck in an elevator/room/small space together_

* * *

"Damn." Sif breathed, rattling the handle of the shed. It had worked a minute ago when she had entered. Now it was stuck.

Brilliant.

Biting her tongue, she threw herself against the door with a grunt.

Again, nothing.

"Valiant effort." A voice purred suddenly from behind her.

Sif turned, clutching her sword, to see none other than Loki looming in the shadowy corner. As if her plait couldn't get any worse. "What are you doing here?"

"Reading."

"In a shed?"

"Obviously." He smirked, waving a thick novel in the air.

She rolled her eyes but returned the grin begrudgingly. She couldn't help it. His smiles were contagious to her. "…why?"

Nodding towards the door, he lifted his brows. "Seems you know why."

"I don't follow you-"

"Some fool thought it would be a laugh to put a spell on the door so that it could no longer be opened from the inside."

"Who?" Crossing her arms, Sif felt a surge of annoyance in her stomach. The Warriors Three were waiting for her on the dueling grounds. She did not have time for this.

"Well, eh, it was a very talented sorcerer…"

"Loki…"

"And it would have been amusing had the sorcerer not…accidentally cast the spell from the inside."

"You foolish boy."

He smirked, leaning against the wall.

"Well, when do you plan on fixing this?"

"Right after I finish my book."

"You are a child."

"And you are ravishing. Have I ever told you that?"

"Loki, I am not jesting." She spoke sternly, however she could not control the sudden warmth in her cheeks.

"Neither am I." Taking a step closer in the already tiny space, Loki rested his hand against the wall behind her. "Perhaps I don't want to fix this."

"What is that supposed to mean?" She said, lifting an eyebrow.

"What do you want it to mean?"

"I am in no mood for your riddles."

"What _are_ you in the mood for then, Lady?"

Sif suddenly became aware that she could feel the heat of his body. Never before had she been this close to Loki.

Alone with Loki.

It gave her a rush of both breathlessness and anticipation. A bit like before a spar on the dueling grounds.

And she was ashamed to admit that she quite enjoyed the feeling.

Resisting the urge to stare back into his vivid green eyes, she spoke cautiously. "What do you think you're doing?"

"I thought it was fairly obvious what I'm doing, but if you need me to be more direct…" With this, he leaned down until his face was inches from hers. Then, he whispered, "Perhaps this will clear things up."

Sif was very tempted to indulge her fierce desire and bridge the gap between them, but a tiny, nervous part of her overpowered it. Lifting a finger, she pressed it to his lips and shook her head. "Will you please undo the spell?"

Loki stood up straight, a look of disappointment on his alluring face. "I cannot."

"You cannot or you will not?"

"The spell is not one which can be reversed with a simple charm. It will lose effect over time-"

"How much time?"

"…twenty four hours."

Sif's eyes grew wide with irritated disbelief. "Tell me you are jesting."

"If I only could, I would do so at once for you, good Sif."

"Is there nothing else you can do?"

"I'm afraid you must remain here with me until either the spell loses effect, or someone comes along and opens the door for us."

"So our only option is to wait this out?"

"I hope for your sake that you brought a book."

"I'm afraid I carry weapons with me at all times rather than stacks of paper and ink."

"Well…I know of other ways we could spend this time. Should milady wish to resume what was proposed earlier…" Loki stepped close again, lifting an eyebrow in a silent request.

Looking around as if to make sure they were truly lone, Sif felt her apprehension wearing thin. She never did this sort of thing, but to be fair, neither did Loki. She had never once seen him flirting with bar maids or running off with Lorelei during a feast like the other trainees. Perhaps that was why she felt such an intense impulse to give way to her temptation. This did not seem as fickle as the other youths flings. "Fine. However, if you tell anyone about this I will not hesitate to sew your lips shut with my own needle. Understood?"

"Oh yes. You have my word." He grinned, wrapping an arm around her waist and pulling her to him decidedly.

"And if you wished to court me you could have simply asked. You did not need to create this grandiose plot."

"Why Sif, I'm flattered that you think I planned this. But no indeed, it was just a happy accident that you happened upon me."

"I find that rather hard to believe."

"Is it more unbelievable than you agreeing to be courted by me?"

"Hm…I do not yet have an answer for that riddle." And with that, she rose onto her toes and kissed him soundly.


	5. We Wait Like Evening For Night

_**Prompt:** "I'll let you down. I will always let you down. I'm not enough for you to be satisfied."_

* * *

"Thor, I have decided that you will be heading tomorrow's hunt. Lady Sif, your brother, and the Warriors Three will accompany you. Have you any questions about the journey?" Odin's commanding voice echoed around the tall ceilings of the throne room. "No? Very well. Do me proud, son."

"I will." Thor bowed, with a cocky smirk.

Glancing at his grinning brother, Loki felt a surge of jealousy and used this to force himself to speak. "Father?"

"What is it, Loki?"

"Do you not think…" He trailed off, seeing Thor shaking his head in warning.

"Do I not think, what? Say your piece."

"Well, do you not think that perhaps I should have a turn leading the exhibition?"

"Oh?" Lifting his eyebrows, the Allfather leaned back in his throne. "Do you think you are ready?"

"Yes sir."

"Then you are mistaken. Safe travels to you both." With this, he turned and began to speak with one of his advisors.

Thor bowed and turned to leave but Loki did not budge.

Taking in a sharp breath, he lifted his chin and tried to contain his pain at his father's shortness. Odin had always been cold and critical when he requested responsibilities of any kind. Why should today have been any different?

"All due respect, father, but if you would only entrust me with a-"

"Did you not hear me, boy? I said you are not ready." Odin snapped, barely turning his attention from his advisor.

"And I am respectfully disagreeing." He made his voice as smooth and diplomatic as possible.

"Loki, not today." Thor hissed, gripping his arm. But the younger prince brushed him away. So, with a shrug, he exited the room, not wanting to stay and watch the inevitable argument.

"Father, if you would only try giving me leadership of a hunt, you will find that I am every bit as qualified as Thor."

"Ah, so this is merely a brother's jealousy."

Loki's blood felt like ice and his jaw fixed. However, he covered up this stab of hurt with a breathy laugh. "No, indeed-"

"If you believe yourself to be more entitled than your brother-"

"I did not say that!"

"Do not interrupt me, boy!" He growled suddenly, eyes lighting up with an outraged glint.

Flinching, Loki stumbled back several steps and mumbled an apology.

"As I was saying: If you believe yourself to be better qualified than Thor, consider this. While you played with illusions and tricks in the library, your brother tracked animals with the other boys. While you schemed and plotted childish mischief, he dueled in the courtyard. While you danced and made merry at feasts, he sat at the warriors' feet and listened to their tales. It was your own decision to spend your days in this foolish manner, rather than preparing yourself for the duties of manhood. As such, you are now a fool, while your brother is a man."

Stinging tears pricked the corners of his eyes as he listened to the cutting speech. How his father was able to ignore both Thor's flaws and his own strengths was a constant aggravation. As if Thor did not spend every feast roaring drunk, bellowing battle songs. As if he had not neglected his studies in school in order to wrestle and mock duel with his schoolfellows. Every part of Loki wanted to remind their father of this. Every part of him wanted to hiss that, while in the libraries, he would study strategy and lawmaking, as well as magic. He wanted to bring up the sorcery he had mastered which would be useful on the battlefield, as well as in negotiation. But he knew full well the Allfather would not hear this. He seemed to have a willing ignorance to that which was in contradiction to his favoritism. So, Loki pressed his lips shut and said nothing.

"Perhaps," Odin resumed after a moment, something resembling remorse glimmering in his eyes. "If you try very hard to use your time wisely, you will be entrusted with the next hunt."

Loki had nothing to say to this that would not end in a larger disagreement. So, forcing his tight lips into a false smile, he bowed deeply, before turning and striding out of the throneroom.

* * *

His knuckled wrapped against Sif's door, the sound carrying down the dark, vacant hall of the warrior's wing.

It was late.

She was probably asleep.

But he had to try. He needed a distraction. His father's words would not leave him be, banishing all hope of solitary sleep from his mind.

 _"It was your own decision to spend your days in this foolish manner, rather than preparing yourself for the duties of manhood. As such, you are now a fool, while your brother is a man."_

After a moment passed, Sif's door creaked open, revealing the disheveled warrior.

"Loki? What is amiss? I was just going to bed." She said, gesturing to her sleeping clothes and undone hair.

"I…" He started, "May I come in?"

"Of course. But, are you-"

Her words were interrupted by the young man lunging forward and kissing her decidedly.

Making a surprised, but not unhappy noise, she pulled him into the room and closed the door behind them with a click.

"Is everything...alright...Loki?" She asked breathlessly between kisses as they stumbled into the main part of her quarters.

"Mm...just...needed you."

Pulling away, she helped him remove his cloak and vest. "Your father again?"

"I _do_ not want to discuss it."

"Very well. What do you want to do?"

His eyes were distant and lonely as he stared at her lips. "I want a distraction."

"And I am that distraction?" Lifting an eyebrow, she brushed his cheek with her thumb.

He nodded weakly, kissing her once more. But this time it was gentle and slow, unlike the frantic, hungry way he had embraced her moments ago.

And it worried her.

Nevertheless, she allowed him to lead them into her sleeping chamber.

* * *

Loki did not know how many times he had found himself in Sif's bed after an argument with his father. He knew not when or how it had started. He did not even know what the nature of his relationship with the fair warrior was. All he knew was that her presence was the only thing successful in distracting him to sleep on such evenings. However, this night, something was different. The weight of Sif's arm around his waist, the feeling of her soft breath against his neck, the pale moonlight illuminating her restful face, things which so often provided him the comfort he needed to sleep, were proving strangely ineffective.

With a sigh, he gently moved aside her arm and sat up, swinging his legs over the side of the bed. The moonlight lightened the room just enough to reveal his cloak, vest, and tunic strewn onto the floor. Running his fingers through his rumpled hair, he readied himself to stand.

Then, a hand caught his arm.

"Loki, are you alright?" Sif's sleep laden voice asked.

"Hm? Oh, yes. Go back to sleep. Do not trouble yourself," replied Loki, attempting to make his voice as calm and convincing as possible.

For a moment, all was silent. Then, there was a rustle of fabric and he felt Sif's arms wrap his torso.

"Your silver tongue will not work on this victim, Loki." She placed a kiss on his neck. "What is the matter?"

"I said it is nothing. I simply cannot sleep."

"Very well." She sighed, releasing him from her embrace.

A moment passed.

Then, words escaped his lips uncontrollably. "Do you think me a fool?"

"No." There was a confidence in her voice, no hesitation or amusement, which soothed him deeply. "Why would you feel the need to ask such a question?"

Laying back down onto the pillow, he ignored her response. "Do you think Thor is a fool?"

"I think...Thor is a prince of Asgard and my friend. I will say no more on the subject." The wry edge of her voice brought a small smirk to his face.

"Our father believes I am far more foolish than my brother."

"Loki…"

"' _It was your own decision to spend your days in this foolish manner, rather than preparing yourself for the duties of manhood. As such, you are now a fool, while your brother is a man._ ' Those were his words. "

"But you know this accusation to be false. I have seen your studies, your magic, it is not unlike that of the Allmother. Far from childish"

Unable to find agree with her defense of his skill, he shrugged.

"Words spoken out of anger are never without exaggeration." She recited.

"But neither are words spoken out of love," retorted Loki.

Instantly, a strained energy settled over the pair as what he had just insinuated dawned on them.

They had never once said that they loved each other. At least, not in so many words.

They had not even entered into a proper courtship.

A blush rose on his face, making him grateful for the darkness. "I...I, um, am sorry for-"

"No, do not apologize." Rolling onto her side, she brushed several strands of hair away from his face. Her voice sounded far happier than he had expected. "I believe such a statement is overdue. Indeed, Loki, I do lo-"

"No." He cut her off, sitting up again.

"Please, let me speak."

"I cannot hear what you are going to say."

"I am only trying to say that I love you!"

"Yes, I know. That is why I stopped you."

"Oh. So...you do not share my feelings?"

The cold disappointment in her voice pierced his heart. "No, that is not the reason."

"Then why?"

"I...I will let you down." Pinching the bridge of his nose, he took in a sharp breath. "I will always let you down. I'm not enough for you to be satisfied. I only wanted to prevent you from saying something you may soon regret."

Sitting up and turning to him, Sif took his face into her hands and kissed him gently.

To her relief, rather than moving away, he melted into her, wrapping his arms snugly around her waist and pulling her against him.

They remained like this for a long moment until Sif drew back slightly, kissing his forehead and smoothing his hair.

"Loki, your father is blind to your cleverness, your talent. To me, this makes him a greater fool than you."

"Maybe so." He breathed, smiling numbly. "Nevertheless, the opinion of the most powerful being in the nine realms must count for something."

"On subjects of war and government, perhaps. But you mistake all powerful for all knowing."

Loki was quiet for a minute, pondering her words.

"You know that I am right." Sif grinned, reclining into the bed once more.

"I know that you...may have a point."

"High praise indeed. Now will you lay beside me again and try to sleep?"

Nodding, he placed his head on her pillow and let her arm settle around his waist.

"Goodnight, Sif."

"Goodnight, Loki."

He hesitated a moment before adding, "I love you."

And she responded in kind, with a tone of such adoration that he felt his self loathing disintegrate into the warm night air.

For Sif, strong, clever, beautiful Sif, could not love a fool.


	6. A Touch, A Dance

**A/N:** This fic was written for the prompt: "Loki teaches Sif to dance"

Enjoy!

* * *

Sif's feet fumbled as she attempted to circle her partner, sending her lunging towards the ground.

Any decent dance partner would have caught her in her descent.

Loki did not.

With a grunt, her palms collided with the cool marble floor.

"Very graceful." Loki hummed above her, examining his nails lazily and offering no help whatsoever.

Glaring at him, Sif hoisted herself off of the ground and violently took his hand once more. "Cease your chatter, Loki."

"I believe it is customary for the man and woman to engage in some sort of conversation whilst they dance, good Lady Sif." Smirking humorlessly, he pulled her against him and began to spin them, narrowly avoiding one of the other couples.

"Yes, but if I am not mistaken, that custom is meant to add pleasure to a dance, not detract from it. As such, we two speaking would not fulfil the tradition." She spun away from his embrace, as was the next step in the dance. However, no one had told her what she was meant to do with her arms, leaving her to flail them like a dying bird, and accidentally smack a neighboring student. "Sorry!"

With the lilting music, Loki was suddenly behind her, his hand on her waist. "Thank you for your concern, Sif, but I am finding this most pleasurable."

"Do not flatter yourself. You know full well I spoke on my own account. For indeed, I would enjoy silence more than the sound of your voice-"

Foot catching on the hem of her skirt, she found herself collapsing to the floor once more.

Loki chuckled.

And the music came to an end.

"Excellent, students." The academy dance instructor spoke above the murmering, "All of you…well, most of you, seem well prepared for tomorrow's test. Partners will remain the same. Now, I advise you to get a good night's rest. You are dismissed."

Rising to her feet, Sif felt her stomach drop. "There is a test tomorrow?

Loki did not answer.

She smacked him on the shoulder. "Did you hear me, Loki?"

"Yes, I heard you."

"Well?"

"The instructor does not lie."

Blood turning cold, Sif glared. "When was this established?"

"Hm…several weeks ago, I believe?"

"The day I was not present due to illness?"

"Yes, I believe that was the one."

Fists clenching, she felt her loathing for the smug young man increase. "And you didn't think to tell me?"

"Oh no, Sif. I most certainly did think to. And what is the expression? 'It's the thought that counts'?" Lifting an eyebrow, he crossed his arms.

"You are insufferable-"

"Ah, I would perhaps think twice about insulting me. If you had only refrained from doing so, you may not have been blind to tomorrow's exam." With that, he flashed her a smile, before heading out the door.

And Sif watched at he went, fists aching from clenching so hard.

* * *

Her feet stumbled across her bedroom floor as she practiced.

Dancing was not a bit like battle.

In battle, one must think on their feet; no match was ever the same. Appearance is not considered, only purpose and results.

In dance, there were stricter rules, and pointless motions, no end result, or real purpose. It was meant to be enjoyable.

So why did she have to bloody learn it in school?

"One…two…three…one…two…three…" She whispered to herself, eyes fixed intently on her feet, while her arms hung limply at her side.

Why was this so challenging? Why wouldn't her feet simply do as she commanded? And the harder the focused, the worse it seemed to get.

After nearly two hours of fruitless effort, Sif collapsed onto her bed with a groan.

She would have to resign herself to failing dance and further disappointing her mother. There was nothing more she could do.

Unless…

 _Loki._

Instantly, she called her inner thoughts a fool for even suggesting it, and yet her options were growing slim.

He may not even be awake.

And if he was, there was a great chance he would mock her and turn her away.

But, if he did agree to help her, there was a possibility she may actually pass.

So, fixing her shoulders, Sif pulled on her robe, swallowed her pride, and made for Loki's chamber.

* * *

 _Knock knock knock!_

Sif's fist pounded on Loki's door quickly to keep herself from backing out.

She needed his help.

It was going to be humiliating.

He would be a cocky fool.

But she needed his help.

 _Knock knock knock!_

After a moment, the chamber door opened, to reveal a rather disheveled Loki.

His normally slicked back black hair was frizzy and curled, partially covering his face. Instead of his usual pristine black robes, he wore a loose tunic and belt. And his ordinarily smug face seemed too caught off guard to make an unpleasant expression.

To Sif's surprise, seeing him like this made her feel…a feeling she was not accustomed to. Her chest felt suddenly tight, and her knees weak.

What the bloody hell was wrong with her?

"Sif, what are you-" Loki started, eyes wide.

"I require your assistance."

"It is late-"

"Please!" She sounded desperate.

For a moment, he seemed to be thinking.

Then, with a sigh, he turned and walked into his room, leaving the door open behind him: an invitation.

So, she accepted it.

Loki's room was far messier than she had expected. Books lay open on almost every surface, with discarded parchment and nearly used candles scattered across the floor. The fireplace was roaring, with a suspicious pot hanging above it and all manner of strange ingredients on the hearth. His bed was made, but based on her other observations Sif assumed a servant must have done this.

Standing in the middle of the room, Loki crossed his arms. "Well?"

"It appears that a madman lives here." Sif commented wryly.

"So you have come to insult my living conditions? Excellent. Well, good night, Sif-"

Remembering his words from earlier, she quickly replied. "No, I was-I was jesting."

"Naturally."

"I am here because…I cannot dance, Loki. But you can."

"And here I thought you were going to tell me something I did not already know."

Glaring, she continued. "I desire your assistance."

"Do you, now?"

"Yes."

"And why should I grant it to you?"

She had known he would want something. Whether that be her begging, or a favor of some kind, she knew not. But she was fully prepared to give it to him.

"Please, Loki. I need to do well on the exam."

Chuckling, he pushed back his hair. "Why do you care so deeply about this? I thought you were a fighter, not a dancer."

Clenching her jaw, Sif thought for a moment. Then, she sighed. "My mother."

"Come again?"

"I need to do well for my mother. She does not…she is not proud to have me as a daughter. I thought perhaps if I could do this one ladylike thing well, maybe she would take pride in my actions."

She did not know why she was telling him this, but it felt good to tell someone.

Even if that someone was a smug snake.

"So, you see," she carried on, not looking at his face. "I must do well tomorrow. And I am willing to give you whatever you want for your assistance-"

She was cut off by the feeling of a cold hand on her waist.

Looking up, she was met with Loki's unreadable gaze.

"Take my hand." He breathed, pressing her back slightly to prompt better posture.

"You'll help me?" Sif asked in disbelief, taking his hand as directed.

Not bothering to answer, he continued to adjust her stance. "Neck curved, chin up, elbows softened-that's it. Now, for the music."

With the snap of his fingers, a music box in the room's corner burst into song.

Sif gasped. "That was-"

"I know. Now, eyes on me. And, we begin."

Blushing (for no good reason) Sif attempted to step along with him. However, this soon resulted in her descending towards the ground.

This time, however, Loki caught her.

His thin arms were surprisingly strong as he lifted her to her feet once more. "Well, that was not good."

"I know! That's why I seeked you out!" She snapped, ignoring the way her heart had leapt when he'd held her.

"We go again."

Their second attempt was no better, with toes bumping and arms flailing.

And their third was somehow even worse. Sif managed to confuse every step in the dance, resulting in her and Loki colliding and tumbling to the ground.

First, Sif's back had hit the floor. Then, as she forgotten to release her ruthless grip on Loki's hand, the prince had fallen directly on top of her.

And for a moment, they both had frozen.

For a moment, Loki's eyes had widened and glued to hers.

For a moment, Sif had felt his heartbeat beneath her fingers.

For a moment, neither of them had spoken.

And then, the moment passed.

Loki jumped to his feet.

And Sif followed suit.

Clearing his throat, Loki adjusted his tunic. "Well, that was certainly an improvement."

A wry laugh escaped Sif as she brushed away her blush.

"You seem to have an issue with…concentrating too hard. You forget that dance is meant to be a pleasurable experience."

"Indeed."

"I believe…I have an idea." Loki said, taking a step closer. In a moment, one arm was around her waist, pulling her a bit closer than was necessary, and his hand grasped hers. "Just follow my lead and do not worry about your appearance. Just focus on the feeling."

Sif's heartbeat quickened. He was so close, so solid and real against her body. It was too much. "Loki-"

"Do you trust me?" His voice was soft, almost a whisper.

But he sounded confident.

So, Sif nodded.

And then, he began to move them. Slowly, his feet stepped, but his eyes did not follow them. They stayed locked on to her own, distracting her hopelessly.

And yet…her feet still moved without her chaperoning.

"Dance is like battle, Sif." He spoke, as if reading her mind. "A battle between you and your partner. You must compete to see who is best at leading, and respectively being led."

"I see." She replied, voice more hoarse than she intended.

"Let me lead you, Sif. Imagine that we are on the battlefield and I am an enemy."

"That will not be difficult." She teased softly.

To her delight, a grin spread across his face. "Excellent. Now, when I do this," he stepped to the side, and her feet followed like they were attached with a string. "Yes, that's exactly it."

Sif's heart leapt.

"Next, I will spin you away from me." Dropping his hold of her waist, he stepped away. "I remember you had difficulty with the arms, so think of it this way. Imagine that, at the end of your arm there is a ribbon. Make your arm an extension of that ribbon-There you go!"

Sif spun, her arm floated, and her mind hummed with joy.

Then, suddenly, she was back in Loki's arms, and that joy became overpowered by a louder sensation. At the speed of light, her mind made useless observations. He smelled of grass, his skin was cold, his smile was not so cruel, and his eyes sometimes danced. His eyebrows were thin, but expressive, and his arms felt safe.

And his lips…they looked positively intoxicating.

Before she knew it, their feet had stopped dancing, but their arms remained very much around each other.

His eyes peered into hers, unreadable as always, though they held no urgency to look away. And his breath seemed caught in his throat.

As the fire crackled and her heart pulsed, Sif felt herself leaning closer; her eyes wandering lower. Her hand traced up his shoulder to cup his lean neck, and feel the chill against her finger tips.

Then, suddenly, he stepped away and turned towards the fire.

And Sif felt reality crashing down around her.

"Yes, well, I believe you shall do just fine tomorrow." Loki spoke quickly, an air of false serenity about him.

Blushing, Sif nodded. What had come over her? "Thank you…for the assistance, I mean."

He waved a hand, and she took it as both a response, and a goodbye.

So, chest aching with a strange loneliness, she turned and began to leave.

Her feet were nearly out the door, when Loki's voice stopped her.

"Sif, a moment."

Spinning to look at him, she lifted her eyebrows.

"Your mother…she should be proud."

She started, "Yes, I believe she will be pleased with our dancing-"

"No, I mean, not because of the dancing. Dancing be damned. Dancing does not win wars or bring glory. She should be proud of _you_. Of the ruthless, stubborn warrior you are. "

As he spoke, Sif felt a surge of emotion course through her veins. Swallowing roughly, she lifted her fist to her chest and bowed. "Thank you, Loki."

He returned the gesture with a soft smile. "I will see you tomorrow, then."

"Yes, tomorrow."

And Sif found that tomorrow could not come soon enough.


	7. Fragile

**_A/N:_** _Hellooooo everyone! Here is a short little thing I wrote for Sifki Week Fix It Day! It is meant to explain Sif being off on a mission during the whole of Ragnarok using SIFKI!_

 _Anyway, hope you enjoy it!_

* * *

 _This will not last_ , Sif reminded herself as she waited in Loki's chamber. _This, like all things involving Loki, will end quickly, and in disaster._

But no matter how much she reminded herself of this, her mind never seemed to take heed.

No matter how many times she repeated the words, she still found herself waiting in The Allfather's chamber come sundown.

It was a large room, with massive windows that seemed to stretch into the ceiling, and heavy, velvet drapes to cover.

Green drapes.

She wondered if this color was a recent change.

The room had undergone several redos since the night she had ambushed the sleeping young man and announced that she knew who he was; the night he had smiled down the gleaming blade of her sword and whispered words of relief:

 _"Ah, Sif. I knew you would see through me soon enough. Though you may find it hard to believe, I do not enjoy lying to you."_

That night, she had been weak. With each of his melodic words, nostalgia consumed her logic, and she found herself lowering her weapon. And it was only a matter of time before his hand gripped hers, his voice spoke desperately of remorse and loneliness, and his lips found their way to hers.

Since that fateful night, the drapes remained closed, the guards were forbidden to enter, and a second pillow found its way onto the bed.

And Sif's life became unexpectedly routine. Each morning, she would awaken in the arms of the prince, listen to him whisper his regret that the night was over already, before giving her an enchanted cloak to wear out of the room. Then, she would train in the courtyard, duel with her friends, and go about her day ever the same. And finally, after dinner, she would excuse herself to her chamber, slip on the cloak once more, and make her way to Loki's room.

There was no good reason for her to repeat this routine; Loki never asked her to, nor did he expect it. But he had a hold over her, despite herself. He was a magnet, an oasis in a desert, and she surrendered.

It wouldn't last.

But she was determined to enjoy it while it did.

Sighing, she let herself fall backwards into the soft sheets of Loki's bed, her eyes flickering to the clock.

It was later than usual.

She wondered what could have delayed him.

Turning her head, she let her cheek brush against the cool covers and closed her eyes. Despite her happiness that Loki was alive, alive and spending nights at her side, she still could not shake the unease in her chest. It was as though each moment they spent together was made of fragile glass, balancing on the rim of a table. She treaded carefully, trying not to think too deeply about her actions for fear of tipping it over the edge.

Was it wise to engage with Loki in this way once more?

Most certainly not.

But it was an indulgence, one which she would be damned if she denied herself.

And she had missed him.

More than she would care to admit, she had longed for his embrace.

The moment his cool lips had touched her skin, breathing apologies and telling her how pleased he was to see her, she had been lost.

At the sound of the chamber door opening, Sif's heart swelled with relief. Sitting up, she watched his shadow in the hall change shape in a flash of green light, before he appeared in the doorway.

As always, his eyes filled with a sort of satisfied disbelief upon seeing her.

"My lord." She nodded, rising from her seat. Seeing the way his gaze took her in, lingering on her lips, sent a shiver through her spine.

A smile turned up the corner of his mouth. "Good evening, Sif."

"I trust your day was productive?"

"Never before has The Allfather made so many logical decisions, nor given so much support to the fine arts. I do wonder what has caused the old fool to change his ways."

Sif pressed her lips together in a thin line, guilt suddenly gripping her stomach. Whenever he mentioned the king, she found herself quite conflicted. Thrice, she had attempted to question Loki about the location of his father, and thrice she had been silenced by his lips on hers.

Seeing her unease, the smile fell from Loki's face. With tender eyes, he took her hand and pressed it to his lips.

"Loki…" She sighed after a moment, lifting her hand to brush his cheek.

"Hm...yes?"

"I believe it would be wise for you to send me on a mission once more." She dropped her hand to her side.

Lifting his eyebrows, he strode across the room to the wardrobe. "Oh?"

"Indeed. It has been some time since I've left this realm. I-I believe people are growing suspicious." She took a step after him, biting her lip. "Fandral expressed some...confusion day before last when he and the others were sent to Niflheim and I was not."

"Hm...perhaps you are right." Thought clouding his gaze, he peeled off the massive robes he wore and let them drop to the floor.

Sif scolded herself for the way her eyes drew instantly to the lean muscles on his back. "And after all, it is my duty as a warrior to go on such missions. It is wrong for me to neglect them."

"Your duty as a warrior is to please the king." Glancing over his shoulder, his vivid green eyes met hers. "I am the king. And I dare say you have been fulfilling that duty marvelously."

"Loki," glared Sif, a faint smile at her lips.

Pulling a thin nightshirt over his head, he turned to face her, his voice dropping to a low murmur. "I simply do not know if I...if I could bare the loss of your company."

"You faired fine before I knew of your being here."

"I would hardly call it fine. Indeed, it was one of the worst tortures I have endured. Day after day, pretending to be indifferent to you. Being so near, yet unable to hold you as I wanted to..."

Sif's gaze fell to the floor, her stomach flipping in the dizzying way it always seemed to when he spoke like this.

After a moment, she felt a hand on her waist, pulling her close. Then, a pair of cool lips grazed her neck.

Her breath caught in her throat. "Loki…"

"Dearest Sif…"

"Loki, please." She sighed, reluctantly stepping out of his embrace. "I am not your queen. My lot in life is not to wait in your chamber come evening. I am a warrior. And I have a job to do."

For a moment, he looked hurt. Then, his gaze grew distant. "Yes...yes, I suppose you are right."

A silent moment passed as Loki fixed his jaw and took it a breath.

Lifting her hand to his chest, Sif's fingertips grazed the bit of skin above his collar. "That is not to say that I...have not enjoyed these past several nights. I only think it is wrong for me to neglect my duties."

Eyes falling to her lips, he breathed. "Why must I be cursed to care for such an honorable woman?"

With a wavering smile, she moved her hand up his chest to cup his face. "I dare say the fact that I am here with you makes me unworthy of that description."

Grinning, a breathy laugh escaped his lips.

"So, you shall find a mission for me?" She asked, her thumb brushing his cheekbone.

"You have my word. I shall speak to my council in the morning, and I will select the most dangerous, bloody exhibition I can find. Will that satisfy you?"

"Hm, I dare say it shall."

"Excellent." Turning his head, he placed a kiss on her palm. "Now, we have only eight hours together, my dearest Sif. I am happy to spend it negotiating your travel plans, but I gather you have other ideas for how to occupy ourselves?"

Grinning, she bridged the gap between them and kissed him soundly.


	8. Shut up and kiss me!

**Prompt:** "Shut up and kiss me!"

Takes place sometime pre-Thor

* * *

They were drunk.

Well, Loki was, as evident by his non-stop chatter and breathless laughter.

But, if Sif was being honest, she couldn't tell if she was also intoxicated. Logically, she should have been, as she and the younger prince had just drank an embarrassing number of ales, before running off to a balcony with a jug of wine. However, there was a strange tugging in her chest that kept her tethered to reality. This tugging was always there when she was with Loki, and the drinks only seemed to make it stronger.

It wasn't unpleasant, a cool, lonely passion. But it _was_ wholly unwanted. Especially on a night meant for revelry.

"Now tell me, oh brave Sif, why you are not in high spirits this eve?" Loki asked after they had stumbled down the hall and onto the candle lit balcony. "Surely the thrill of victory has not lost its charms on you so soon?"

"No, indeed, I find battle as invigorating as ever." She replied, snatching the wine from his hand and taking a swing. As she drank, she noticed the way his eyes settled on her lips, an odd sort of hunger in their murky depths. It made her stomach flip excitedly.

"Then what, pray tell, has dulled the most ravishing smile in the nine realms?"

Laughing dryly, she rolled her eyes. "Your silver tongue is as pretty as ever, milord, but it shall not get me to trust you."

"Very well. I shall just remain silent and allow you to wallow in your quiet misery alone." He grinned, sweeping into a dramatic bow.

He was charming, Sif would own to that. Charming and handsome and cunning. But she had confided in him once before, and he had only used that information to tease her later. Besided, what would she say? That she felt a strange pain whenever she spoke to him? That this pain felt eerily similar to lust?

She would not fall prey to his feigned concern, no matter how she enjoyed his gaze upon her.

After a mere moment of silence, Loki broke his declaration. "Perhaps you have been wronged by a lover?"

"One cannot be wronged by a thing they do not possess." Sif cocked her eyebrows, lifting the wine to her lips once more.

"Mm, so the beautiful Lady Sif is without a companion? Perhaps it is loneliness that clouds your mind?"

"One cannot be lonely when in your company, Loki."

When her words met his ears, something in his eyes softened. A ghost of a smile painted his lips. "Oh?"

"Indeed. For you talk enough for twelve individuals." She smirked.

"Ah. And here I thought the lady was going to pay me a compliment."

"When you do something worth complimenting, I shall."

At this, his gaze changed from wry to scheming. Taking a step forward, his eyelids lowered and Sif became excessively aware of the cold wall at her back.

"I think," he started, his voice thick, "that you will find I have many skills worth complimenting."

Swallowing roughly, Sif felt an odd prickling of nerves in her chest. "Aren't you all modest humility."

"Hm, no indeed, that is not one of my finer talents. However, I am…excessively skilled at distracting melancholy warriors." He stepped closer still, his hand resting upon the wall behind her.

Her breath became quicker. "Indeed…your rambling is quite distracting-"

"Perhaps, but the…distraction I had in mind does not require speaking at all."

"Loki…" She glared, ashamed of the excitement in her stomach.

For a long moment, he grinned at her, his breath smelling of sweet wine and cinnamon. And Sif felt certain he was going to touch her; an event which would not be unwelcomed in the slightest.

However, after several beats had passed, his eyes grew serious and his posture straightened. "Perhaps tonight is not the best time for such diversions, though. You are in ill spirits, and though I jest, I am…truly hopeful you shall feel better soon."

Mouth falling open slightly, Sif felt her heart jump. As she looked up into the dizzying, green eyes above her, she felt the melancholy start to fade. There was something in his gaze she had not noticed before; a sweetness, perhaps. Some remnant of the shy, bookish child he had been.

"…and perhaps I am not the most deserving of trust, so I shall press you no further. But please, know that if you do choose to confide in me, I will most likely not remember your words in the morning-"

"Loki?" She cut him off, gripping the front of his tunic decidedly.

"Hm?"

"Shut up and kiss me."

Without a moment's apprehension, he fell forward and his lips met hers. His reaction so automatic, so sudden, that Sif let out a gasp of surprise.

And in a matter of seconds, she felt her knees weaken beneath her. Loki, for all his vanity, had been correct about his talent. As he held her waist in lean, muscular arms, his lips danced against her own, turning her mind to dizzying pleasure.

"Loki?" She rasped against his lips when she finally felt grounded.

"Hm?" He murmured, his mouth moving to her neck.

"I-I find my spirits…very much so improved."

"Happy to be of service." He replied, capturing her lips once more.


	9. Fairy Tale AU

**A/N:** This fic was written as a contribution to my amazingly talented friend's Sifki fairy tale au collection! It's called Dream a Little Harder and can be read on Archive Of Our Own! She writes some really really good stuff, so I recommend checking it out. I'll link it at the end.

This is the Sifki Princess and the Pea (inspired) AU that NO ONE ASKED FOR!

Enjoy

* * *

A prince and his knight sharing frantic kisses and whispered affirmations behind the drapes that lined the palace halls would surely bring a scandal.

Even more so when said prince was meant to be looking for a suitable (royal) bride, and said knight was a woman who had disguised herself as a man in order to become one of the royal warriors.

And yet, this was the position the two had been finding themselves in increasingly often.

As Loki's lips glided softly against Sif's, he felt her smile.

"What?" He asked, breathless and amused.

"It's just…" she bit her bottom lip, eyes scanning his body. "The illusion you've chosen does look...uncomfortably like myself."

Whenever he and Sif engaged in this diversion, Loki always created a magic disguise, in case they should be discovered. If a servant were to pull back the curtain, they would only see Sir Tyrson and some unknown woman. Not a knight and the prince.

Looking down at himself, Loki lifted an eyebrow. "Hm...perhaps you are right. I suppose when I attempted to conjure the image of a beautiful woman, yours was the one which persisted."

Rolling her eyes, Sif slung her arms around his neck. "And what would this beautiful woman like to do for the rest of the evening?"

"Oh, she has a few ideas." He grinned, his hands circling her armor-clad waist. "Do you think we can make it to my chamber without being caught?"

For a long moment, Sif returned his devious smile. However, then something serious overtook her gaze. "Do you really think that's proper?"

"My dear Sif, please tell me you are not insisting upon propriety now?"

"No, I only mean...are your parent not bringing the next candidate for dinner tonight?"

"Damn, I had forgotten." He sighed, head falling forward in defeat. For the past several months, his parents had been inviting high born young ladies from far and wide to stay at the palace. However, they never stayed longer than a day. Apparently they had been conducting a sort of magical test, which all had failed.

"Well, I have not forgotten! What if this girl tonight is your future wife? Do you really want to run the chance that the day you meet your bride, you will have been...consorting with a warrior?" Despite her serious words, there was a teasing edge in her tone.

Closing his eyes, Loki groaned. "Sif, please...you are meant to be my escape from that ordeal."

"Loki, I am not an escape! I am a woman who loves you." She hissed, dark eyes flashing.

Love.

It was not a word often spoken between the two. It was everyday implied, but rarely voiced. But when it was said aloud, when he himself murmured it between kisses, or Sif laughed it whilst the two fled from the palace grounds, Loki felt a feeling entirely individual to this declaration.

A breathless, excruciating, good sort of pain. Like all of the loneliness of his life gripped his chest once more, before dissolving into warmth.

He loved her.

Leaning forward, he pulled her flush against his body and kissed her.

"Loki…" she breathed against his mouth after a moment. "Loki, I do not know if I can do this."

Pulling away, he sighed. "I know."

Sif looked thoroughly defeated.

And it killed him.

Resting his forehead against hers, his brain began to search desperately for a remedy to her sorrow.

Then, an idea struck him. "Sif, do you trust me?"

"I...am not sure."

"Would you like to be my wife?"

Pulling away, hey eyebrows flew up. "Loki-"

"If the answer is yes, then I need you to trust me and do as I say."

"But-"

"I love you, Sif." He whispered, touching her cheek. "Do you trust me?"

"I...I do."

"Excellent. Then listen carefully…"

* * *

 **Three days later...**

"Mother...father…" Loki started, pushing the vegetables across his plate in an attempt to seem casual.

The royal family (excluding Prince Thor, who lived with his wife in a neighboring kingdom,) were seated around the stately table, far too large for a three party meal, but ideal for the revelries King Odin was so fond of hosting.

The latter, a rather cold, easily angered man, did not look up from his meal at his youngest son's words.

However, Queen Frigga's eyes lit up the moment Loki spoke. "Yes, my dear boy?"

"I only wondered…" Biting his lip, he looked at the door. He must be quick. Any minute now, Sif would arrive.

"Wondered what?" Odin sighed, finally acknowledging the conversation.

"Well, you see, I was curious about this test you have been administering. To my...potential brides, I mean."

Frigga smiled, her eyes twinkling with the same mischief so often found in the prince's gaze. "Oh? And why is that? Do you have a favorite whom you would like to assist?"

"No!" Loki replied, perhaps a bit too enthusiastically. He never had been able to lie to his mother with ease. With a breathy laugh, he continued. "No, I only...as I am studying magic as well, I thought, perhaps-"

"Your mother has devised this test to ensure you end up married to your soulmate. I believe it would be far too advanced for you, son." Odin interrupted, not unkindly, but rather, boredly.

"I understand, but I want to know how it works-"

His words were one again cut short, this time by the pounding of the front door.

Sif was here.

 _Damn._

"Who can that be?" Odin growled, rising from his chair. "We were not to host another lady until next Saturday."

His question was soon answered by a servant opening the dining hall door and announcing the presence of a young woman seeking shelter from the storm.

"Well, bring her in." Frigga gestured, abandoning her chair as well.

And in a moment, Sif appeared before them.

She wore a dress of the deepest crimson, with a skirt large enough to swallow a battlefield, and sleeves which rested off of the shoulder. Her hair was wet and matted to her face in messy curls, and upon her head sat a silver tiara.

Loki was not sure why he stared. He had designed this illusion after all! Nevertheless, seeing the clothes upon her body left him speechless. This strong, intimidating woman; she did not lose any of her power dressed in such feminine clothes. No indeed, they clung to her muscles and swayed as she walked in such a way which seemed to declare: my beauty is a weapon, my grace is deadly.

Loki shivered.

"Please forgive me, your highnesses." Sif spoke, falling into a curtsy. "I was traveling, but my carriage became stuck in the mud down the road. It is storming so terribly, and I've nowhere else to go-"

"My dear child, speak no more of it." Frigga assured her kindly. "You have a place here for the night."

"Thank you, my queen."

At her royal highness's nod, several servants rushed forward and draped a towel over Sif's shoulders.

"Now tell me, what is your name? From where do you hail?"

Loki clenched his jaw. This was the moment his plan rested on (well, this, and discovering what the test was.)

"I am Lady Sif of the former Jotunheim." She bowed, the lie slipping smoothly from her lips.

While Jotunheim had fallen eighteen years ago, absorbed into Asgard, there were still remnants of it's upper class and wealth.

Crossing his fingers, Loki said a silent prayer that his father's grudge against Jotunheim (resulting in a lack of knowledge of its remaining royals) would work in their favor.

"Oh, a Lady? You are of high birth, then?" Odin finally spoke.

Loki sighed silently in relief.

"I am, my king." Sif replied.

"Well, I believe we have a room suitable for a lady like yourself, don't we?" Frigga smiled, meeting her husbands gaze.

"Indeed." Odin nodded, squinting his remaining eye. "Indeed we do."

Loki flashed Sif a grin.

It had worked.

* * *

After completing dinner, during which Sif maintained their lie with admirable dedication, Loki had excused himself, only to return, disguised as a servant girl. He had informed Sif that he would take her to her chamber, and led her down the many twisting halls to her room.

When they had arrived, Loki shut the door behind them and dropped the illusion.

"Will milady be needing help dressing this evening?" He asked wryly.

Turning, Sif grinned. "I knew it was you."

"Did you?"

"Indeed. I thought to myself, it is strange that this servant girl seems to smirk each time she passes a place the prince and I have...entertained each other."

"Hm, it seems I am not as talented an actor as you, Lady Sif of Jotunheim." Bridging the gap between them, he placed his hands on her waist.

"Was I truly believable?"

"You were marvelous."

For a moment, the two smiled at each other, enjoying the privacy, without fear of being discovered.

Then, Sif spoke. "So, tell me, how must I cheat to pass this notorious test?"

"Ah. About that…"

"Loki." Sif's eyes grew wide.

"I was unable to learn this information from my parents-"

"Loki!"

"-but I have not given up yet! Tonight, I shall find my mother and prompt her farther. My father was present when I asked before, and you know how the king is-"

"Loki, you were certain-"

"I know! I still am." He assured her desperately, his fingers tightening their hold.

"Should we fail, then you will have to marry some...some princess whom you do not love-"

"I know-"

"-and I will have to watch from the distance-"

"Yes, but-"

"And I could not bare that, Loki! That would be the death of me-"

"Please, give me a chance!"

Closing her eyes, she let out a sigh, her brow knitting in frustration.

"I love you." Loki whispered, a plead. "Dearest Sif…"

"Fine." She opened her eyes reluctantly. "Fine, speak to your mother. I will continue to trust you."

"Excellent-"

"However, bring me news as soon as you know. I should like to be able to practice whatever it is I'm meant to do."

"I give you my word." Stepping back, he took her hand and kissed it.

"Well, you'd best go, then." She smiled ruefully. "I shall be here, on this...alarmingly huge bed."

Smirking, Loki followed her gaze. She was correct, the bed was a behemoth, piled high with mattresses and quilts.

"I suppose that is how royals sleep?" She asked, laughing away the tears of moments ago.

"I dare say our time together has shown you exactly how royals...sleep." Loki replied, grinning suggestively.

"If I loved you any less I would slap you for speaking so."

"It is fortunate indeed, then, that you have fallen prey to my charms."

Lifting an eyebrow, Sif reached out, gripping the collar of his shirt and pulling him into a bruising kiss.

"Or perhaps you have fallen prey to mine, milord." She breathed against his mouth after a moment.

Feeling pleasantly dizzy, Loki nodded and replied breathlessly, "Well, I do not mind being the victim, good lady."

* * *

Queen Frigga sat in the library, her golden hair glowing in the light of the fireplace. In her hand, she held a book of spells, and her mouth moved silently as she read.

From his place in the doorway, Loki stared. He knew he was adopted, taken in as a child when his family's kingdom had fallen. It had been a condition in the peace treaty, the last living prince of Jotunheim would be adopted by Asgard's royal family upon the death of his parents. In the way his father treated him, his status was obvious. However, there was something about his mother, her mannerisms and smirks, which left him feeling very much her son. They had always shared a bond, be it magic, or love. And it was this bond he had to exploit in order to help Sif.

Feeling slightly guilty, he took a step forward.

"What is it, Loki?" The queen asked kindly, not looking up from her book.

"Good evening mother, I was wondering if you might-"

"Tell you more about the test?" Grinning, she lifted her brows in amusement.

"Yes." Loki breathed a nervous laugh, falling into the chair beside her.

"I thought as much." Eyes twinkling, she folded her book and set it aside. "What would you like to know?"

"Oh, well…" Loki folded his hands. "I suppose I would like to know what the test is?"

"Sleeping." She replied, without missing a beat.

"Beg your pardon?"

"You heard me correctly. The test is simply sleeping."

"But...but how…" Brow furrowing, Loki's nerves began to increase.

"I have put a charm upon the bed in the young lady's room. All they have to do is sleep, and I will know if it is a good match."

"What sort of charm?"

"One of my own invention." Gaze softening, Frigga rose from her chair. "This charm will grant a young woman the most blissful sleep of her life, if she is not your soulmate."

"And if she is?"

"If she is your soulmate, and you are hers, well then...it will feel as is her bed is made of rocks."

Suddenly, Loki felt as though a veil was lifted from his mind.

He was a fool to have not noticed it before!

Every time a young woman would visit, his father would inquire the next morning how she slept. And after receiving a positive answer, she would be told to pack her bags.

So all Sif had to do was tell them that she had slept badly, and they would be married!

Unable to hide his grin, Loki shot up from his chair. "Well, thank you for explaining, mother."

"Of course, my dear-"

"I must go to bed now. I'm quite tired." Bowing slightly, Loki made for the door.

But he was stopped by Frigga calling after, "I hope she is the one, Loki."

Turning, the dark haired young man's blood ran cold. "...who?"

"My dear, I taught you your spells. I can see through them." She crossed the room, taking his cold hands in hers. "And I could tell by the way you looked at her all throughout dinner. You are in love."

"Mother…" Loki closed his eyes, squeezing her hand back. "Please do not send her away."

"I will not." Frigga shook her head kindly. "I know that status is all too important to your father, but love is a treasure which cannot be found in a kingdom's vault. I want you to be happy, my son." She placed a hand on his cheek.

Relief flooding over him, Loki lifted his own hand to cover hers. "Thank you, mother."

Frigga chuckled, "Well, now, I suppose you must go and tell your beloved how to cheat my test."

* * *

Loki crept into Sif's room, closing the massive door with as little sound as was possible in a creaky old castle.

"So, you've come back." Sif greeted him from her perch on the towering bed, its size seeming all the larger now Loki was aware of its task.

"Indeed, I have." He replied, climbing the three steps which led up the side of the bed.

"And? What have you discovered?" In her eyes, her nerves shone like sunlight upon choppy waters.

"I...I did. Discover something, I mean."

"Yes? What must I do?"

Seating himself beside her, he sunk into the soft mattress, and pursed his lips in thought.

Why was he hesitating?

His plan had worked, he would be able to marry Sif! All he had to do was tell her of the test.

The test that would determine, not only if she was his soulmate, but if he was hers.

If he would make her happy.

And Sif, beautiful, strong, faithful Sif...she deserved to be with her soulmate.

He shook his head. "You misunderstand me. I have only discovered that the test will take place tomorrow. I will...I will try to discover what it entails and inform you before luncheon."

Sif nodded, her gaze fixing on his folded hands. "Are you sure this was a good idea, Loki?"

He studied her profile, sharp and breathtaking against the candlelight, and let out a shaky breath.

How he loved her.

How much he wanted to be her husband.

But, he had made a decision.

And in the morning, he would know if he was worthy of her.

Rising from the bed, he caught her hand and kissed it. "Think no more of that this evening. Just...try to get some sleep."

She nodded, her gaze soft, yet brave.

And as he walked towards the door, she called after, "I mean you no offense, but I should think a royal family such a yourself would be able to afford a less tortuous bed."

His froze. "What?"

"I know this monstrosity looks comfortable, but I dare say I will not sleep a wink tonight. It feels as though I'm laying upon a bed of rocks."

Her words shattered any composure he had maintained. Unable to hide his grin, Loki felt tears of relief prickling the corners of his eyes.

He wanted to run to her and kiss her.

He wanted to hold her in his arms.

He wanted to leap for joy!

But instead, he simply turned, placed a hand over his heart, and bowed.

That all could wait.

It could wait until they were married.

"Goodnight, my love."

* * *

Prince Loki and his mysterious Lady Sif were married the following week.

After arriving at breakfast looking thoroughly exhausted, Queen Frigga had taken Sif's hands and announced that she would be the prince's bride.

The wedding was a small, intimate affair, nothing like that of Prince Thor. But the happy couple simply refused to wait. They said their vows in a modest temple, surrounded by the kingdom's knight and warriors, before moving to their own castle overlooking the former fjords of Jotunheim

And they lived happily ever after.

 **The end.**

* * *

Check out more Sifki fairy tale aus here: /works/15286434/chapters/35461860


	10. Foolish Men

**A/N:** This was written for Sifki Week 2018 Day 1: Young Love

Takes place pre-Thor

* * *

"Again, I have been denied an invitation to join their hunt!" Sif's voice filled Loki's chamber, the door slamming shut behind her.

"No, please, do not knock on my account." Loki muttered lazily, not looking up from his book.

With the other members of their usual party going on frequent hunts with the return of warm weather, he and Sif had begun to see more of each other lately, which was both a blessing and a curse.

A blessing, because she was not entirely unpleasant to look at and her conversation was far superior to that of his other peers.

A curse, because she apparently did not believe in privacy.

"I do not understand what I must do to make them think of me as their equal." Sif carried on, throwing herself onto his bed beside him.

Flinching, he watched as her dirt-covered boots streaked the newly cleaned silk sheets. "Do not ask me. I gave up the pursuit of their company years ago."

"They act as though I would be an inconvenience-"

"Hm I cannot imagine why."

"Loki."

He sighed. "Continue."

"I simply cannot comprehend why they would not invite me! My presence would ensure they trap the beast twice, nay, thrice as quickly. And I am a gifted guide."

Folding his book, he looked up at the perplexed young woman. "My dearest Sif, have you ever considered that perhaps that is the reason they leave you behind?"

Her eyebrows drew together. "What do you mean?"

"Thor enjoys feeling like a leader. The Oafs Three are followers. And your beauty, confidence, and sex make you rather skilled at…commanding foolish men."

She lifted her eyebrows. "My beauty?"

"Indeed. As I understand, some men find you appealing."

She glared. "High praise, indeed."

He continued, "The addition of another strong hunter and leader would only upset that balance."

"They do not invite you either. Does this not offend you?"

"You are mistaken, I am invited. I simply choose not to go because I would find little enjoyment tromping through the mud with that lot." Rising from his seat on the bed, he went to place his book on his shelf. "And speaking of mud, I hope you realize you will be the one changing my sheets."

"You have servants," Sif rolled her eyes.

"Yes, perhaps. But it will satisfy me greatly to see you do it yourself."

"You cannot be serious."

"Oh, I am most sincere."

"Ha!"

"I could…command it. As your prince."

"My prince? Oh, I like that." She grinned.

There was a glimmer in her eyes.

It made Loki feel suddenly dizzy and warm.

He cleared his throat, trying to gain back his composure and resume their banter. He loved play-arguing with Sif. It made his heart beat wildly and was far more entertaining than the spells he had been trying to commit to memory.

"Yes-yes, indeed. Prince of…of all of Asgard."

"Very well, your highness." Eyes narrowing to a glare, Sif began to grind her heels against the bed.

Mud clung to his pristine covers.

"Sif!"

Her glare turned into a wicked smile.

Scowling, he charged forward and gripped her boots.

Sif let out a shocked laugh. "What are you-"

Tugging the shoes firmly, Loki expected them to slip right off. Instead, Sif came with them, falling directly into Loki

The two tumbled to the floor in a fit of surprised yells.

Loki's back hit against his soft rug, and Sif's hands smacked upon the ground on either side of his head.

After gaining their composure, their eyes met, both glimmering with amusement and shock.

"By the Norns! These boots are laced, you fool! I would not wear shoes so easily removed into battle!" Sif gave a disbelieving laugh, her breath warm against his face.

The feeling was not at all unpleasant.

Neither was the pressure of her body against his.

Letting out a small chuckle, he let his head fall back against the rug. "Well, at least it was effective."

"Indeed. You are quite successful in keeping women out of your bed." Sif quipped. However, the moment the words left her lips, she blushed slightly.

Loki's own cheeks matched hers. "Well, most of the time, if a woman is in a man's bed, she is not ruining his sheets…in that way, at least."

Loki had hoped this comment would deepen her blush.

Instead, her eyes took on a strange look…an odd sort of determination.

Then, before he could say anything else, her lips were on his.

His heart leapt in surprised delight.

Taking in a sharp breath, he reached up and cupped her face, pulling her closer. A lonely ache suddenly spread across his chest, one which could only be described as a thirst. A thirst which the lips of another could quench.

Sif's lips were as confident and brave as herself, taking the lead and recklessly acting.

And after only a moment of this…occupation, Loki found himself very breathless indeed.

Pulling away slightly, he heard Sif's heavy breath mingle with his.

Then, their panting evened out.

And the room was silent.

"What…why did you do that?" He found himself asking after a moment.

Sif still rested above him, her eyes confused. "I wanted to."

"But…but why?"

"Well, why does anybody want to kiss anybody else?"

The question was meant as an answer, but it only made his head swim all the more.

Shaking her head, Sif smirked and lifted herself off of the prince. Then, she offered him a hand.

He took it, and she pulled him to his feet…

And she didn't let go.

"Sif…"

"Loki." She grinned.

"I demand to know what that was." He glared, trying to keep his heart from fluttering out of his thin body.

"It was called a kiss."

With a groan, he began to pull away-

Then Sif yanked him back, his chest falling against hers, and her lips capturing his once more.

And naturally, he melted again, sighing into the kiss and leaning as close as he could, to drink in the intoxicating feeling of her mouth against his.

This time, however, she pulled away before he was too far gone.

Loki's mouth hung open.

"I do so enjoy seeing the silver tongue speechless." She smiled, crossing her arms.

"I-I am not-"

She lifted an eyebrows.

He closed his mouth.

With a satisfied nod, she turned and began to walk towards his door. "I shall see you at dinner then."

"Sif, I-"

Swiveling to face him, her voice took on an irresistible cadence. "Before I go…come here one more time."

He knew what she was going to do now.

Although, he tried not to let his face reflect his excitement as he approached. He needed to reserve some of his pride.

However, when he was beside her and her mouth was inches from his, she froze.

"Your statement earlier was correct. I do have a talent for commanding foolish men." Her lips grazed his skin as she spoke.

And with that, she took a step back, leaving a gaping prince.

Sprinting after her, Loki found himself watching her stroll down the marble halls."This is not over, Sif!"

"I certainly hope not!" She replied, grinning over her shoulder.


End file.
